It’s bright and sunshine-y today and there’s talk of the temperature reaching 10°C, which is a strange contrast to the blizzard-like conditions and the three or four inches of new snow we got last night. One thing’s for certain — it’ll be plenty wet out there today.

In the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day* Olof and I made a little trip to town last night to go to the liquor store. We have a big new self-serve Systembolag, and I swear I was like a kid in a candy store in there. We had planned to buy only a few cans of Guinness, but I got a little carried away by the prospect of my first alcoholic drinks in about two-and-a-half years, and we came out of there with eight beers, a bottle of Malibu rum, and a bottle of blue curaçao. When I saw the blue curaçao I got all excited thinking about Blue Hawaiians, so I went in search of rum. The thing is, I must have Malibu rum for my Blue Hawaiians, and there just wasn’t any on the rum shelf, no matter how many times I looked. Finally I turned away in defeat and went to put back the bottle of blue curaçao, when I saw it … the familiar white bottle of Malibu rum! I’m ashamed to say that I actually gasped with delight and exclaimed, “oh my God!” loudly enough to get a few disapproving glances directed my way. I don’t usually have such an enthusiastic reaction to booze, but Malibu rum is my special favorite and seeing that bottle felt like a little piece of home.

Anyway, we came home and had dinner then got started mixing drinks. Unfortunately I didn’t have enough ice to blend the Blue Hawaiians well, but you’ve gotta work with what you have, I suppose. They were good, but I was up to drinking only one, plus a Leffe Blond and about half a Guinness. I’ve turned into a real lightweight. This morning I’m remembering why I don’t drink beer — I’m all cotton-mouthed and queasy and headache-y. For some reason, hard alcohol never gives me a hangover, but even a little bit of beer will have me regretting it the next day. Even so, I miss some of the good micro-brews from home.

Oh, I also made Olof watch Dirty Dancing as part of our impromptu little St. Patrick’s Day celebration, since it was on channel 1 last night. I first saw that movie in a theater in Spokane, Washington when I was fourteen years old, and I still love it. Olof had never seen it (can you believe it?!) and said that he thought it was a strange movie for me to like. I can’t explain why I like it, but I do. I did tell him that I think part of its appeal is that it’s almost like soft porn. I mean, come on — the “Hungry Eyes” part? I still get a little tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I hear that song.

*I get irrationally annoyed when people refer to St. Patrick’s Day as “St. Patty’s Day” — if you’re going to shorten it, it’s St. Paddy’s Day. Paddy, not Patty, is the nickname for Patrick.